Kennedy Hudner - Alarm of War

By the time the Victorian missiles reached that space, the Dominion warships were gone.

Meanwhile, the stinger missiles and Dominion missiles entered the chaff cloud at the same time. The stingers sensed the oncoming missiles and exploded, but they barely put a dent in the numbers the Dominions had fired. One hundred and twenty enemy missiles, including the three deadly anti-matter missiles, burst from the chaff cloud, made a course correction toward the worm hole and pressed ahead. The Kent’s anti-missile mines killed fifteen more, and laser fire took out another six.

Ninety nine Dominion missiles, including the anti-matter missiles, reached the worm hole intact and plunged into it. Two minutes later they emerged in Refugian space and the three anti-matter missiles began to scan for the Atlas.

Sitting in his command room in the larger of the two Refugian forts, Uri Ben-Ari saw the missiles come through on his high magnification screen. “Fire” he said softly. Golda, the fort’s AI, released the missiles.

One thousand anti-missiles launched from the fort and met the oncoming Dominion missiles. Twelve of the Dominion missiles somehow survived. The other Refugian fort fired its volley of anti-missile missiles. Only one Dominion missile emerged from the roiling cloud of explosions, wobbling as it did so. A laser beam from the waiting gunboats killed it.

On the New Zealand, Chief Friedman wearily lifted his head from his sensor display. “The Dominion warships have gone, Captain. No sign of anything between us and the worm hole.”

Emily nodded. “Thank you, Chief.” She felt drained, incapable of emotion. She just wanted to lie down and sleep. And forget, if she could.

“Message to the Yorkshire and Kent , activate transponders and follow us through the worm hole. And Chief Gibson, please send a courier drone though ahead of us. Let them know we’re coming through.” Wouldn’t do to get shot after all this effort, she thought, without any humor at all.

Five minutes later, the last three ships of the Coldstream Guards disappeared into the wormhole that would take them to Refuge and safety.

Atlas Space Station

Three hours after entering into Refuge, tractor beams from the Atlas space station’s pulled them into one of the large service bays, designed to hold up to six battleships. The Yorkshire, New Zealand and Kent looked like toys as they hovered side by side in the cavernous space.

Emily just wanted to crawl into bed and escape into sleep, but before she could even leave the bridge, Queen Anne, Sir Henry, Peter Murphy and Hiram crowded into it. To Emily’s astonishment, the Queen threw her arms around her.

“You did it! You did it!” Anne cried, eyes alight. Behind her, Sir Henry leaned over and solemnly shook her hand. “Very nicely done, Captain. First rate.”

Emily blinked. “So, we’re safe?”

Queen Anne beamed. “Atlas came through intact, without a scratch. All of our hopes for the future are intact. All honor to you, Captain, you’ve done a magnificent job.”

Emily shook her head, fighting the angry rush that flushed through her face. “Make sure you earn it, Majesty,” she said bitterly, watching as the smile ran from the Queen’s face. “Ten thousand people just gave their lives so that you would make it to Refuge. By the Gods of Our Mothers, do something to earn those lives.”

“Captain!” snapped Sir Henry. “Remember to whom you speak!”

Queen Anne held up a hand to silence him, never taking her eyes from Emily. “You want promises, Captain?” she asked sternly. “Very well. I can promise you nothing but blood, toil and tears. But I also promise you that I will not stop until I have made the Dominions cringe in terror whenever they hear the name Victoria. And I promise that one day, by my hand, the language of the Dominion will be spoken only in hell.”

Emily stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. For now, it would have to be enough.

Emily’s Personal Journal

Today I killed my best friend.

On the Dominion Vengeance

In the end, they simply ran out of ammunition.

They had used their four grenades to fend off the armored troops, killing one and driving the second back. There had been a blessed lull for about half an hour, then the corridor filled with Dominion troops. The Dominions shot gas canisters into the bridge, and then walked in behind ballistic shields.

One by one the Marines ran out of ammunition. Some resorted to throwing their empty rifles at the Dominion soldiers, some swung them like clubs. The Dominions shot them down and turned on the rest. “Surrender!” their officer ordered, “Or we’ll kill you.”

Cookie looked at the eleven surviving members of her one hundred and twenty man attack force. They were huddled together behind the last bank of consoles, pressed against the far wall of the bridge. Then she looked at her watch: two hours and seven minutes since she had spoken with Emily. Two hours and seven minutes paid for in blood.

There was nothing more to do. There was nothing more she could do. She looked at the blood-stained, exhausted faces of her Marines.

“We can surrender,” she told them, giving them permission to save themselves. They looked at her, faces grimed with dirt and blood, teeth bared, eyes glaring.

“Bugger that!” Wisnioswski snarled.

Meyer somehow cracked a smile. “There’s only thirty of them, Sarge, we should ask them to surrender.”

Cookie nodded. “Okay then,” she said, her heart bursting with the pride she had for these men. “Always together.”

“Never alone,” they replied.

A voice called them from the corridor. “This is Major Bruno Farber of the Dominion Security Directorate! Your battle is over and you have lost. Lay down your weapons and come out!”

“I am Sergeant Maria Sanchez of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines,” Cookie hollered back. “Go to hell!”

Not very original, she thought ruefully, but short and to the point.

A moment later the flash-bang grenades came flying in and Cookie’s world blossomed with light and pain.

The Ducks swarmed over them, butt-stroking them with rifle butts, then tying their hands behind their backs and putting black hoods over their heads. Cookie had to concentrate just to breath. Then they were dragged into a line and forced them to kneel on the floor. The hoods were ripped off. In front of them stood a husky, bald-headed man with the insignia ‘DSD’ on his black uniform. In one hand he carried a sonic pistol.

“My name is Major Bruno Farber of the Dominion Security Directorate. You have been tried for war crimes against the Dominion of Unified Citizenry and found guilty. I sentence you to death.” He turned and walked to the end of the line of prisoners. Meyer looked at him without comprehension.

“Always together, Albert!” Cookie called out. “May the Gods of Our Mothers embrace you and lift you up.” One of the Dominion guards roughly clubbed her to the ground.

Major Farber stuck his pistol against Meyer’s forehead and pulled the trigger. Meyer’s head snapped back in a spray of blood.

Farber stepped to the next Marine.

“Always together!” Wisnioswski shouted. A rifle butt knocked him backwards.

Farber pulled the trigger. He stepped to the next Marine.

“You filthy bastard!” Cookie screamed. “We’re POWs. They’ll hang you for this!”

He pulled the trigger and stepped to the next Marine. Four more died in quick succession. Next in line was Otto Wisnioswski. He put the gun to Wisnioswski’s head.